


Seeing Him

by sleapea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ...eventually, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Canon Universe, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapea/pseuds/sleapea
Summary: As Lance stood at the hanger’s entrance watching the others excitedly swarm Keith, he realized that he was no longer sure how to look at him. He didn’t know what to make of Keith, who had suddenly disappeared without warning over a year ago, now standing there before them like nothing had ever happened. After spending so much time fighting with the Blade, he looked different, and he felt different. The way he hugged his bag tight to his shoulder, and the way he curled in on himself every time the others leaned forward as if flinching away from their touch… this wasn’t the Keith Kogane that had left them last year. Suddenly, Keith looked up at him, eyes dark and gaze hesitant. When their eyes met, Lance was quickly shaken from his reprieve and lured back into reality by two small flames burning within familiar shades of purple. All at once, Lance realized with stunning clarity that he did know who he was looking at: it was Keith Kogane, the same Keith he’d always known, the same Keith who could freeze and burn an entire room with a single glance. He just didn’t know who was looking back athim.________Keith comes back from the Blades and we get the slow burn Klance we alldeserve





	1. Blindness

**Author's Note:**

> Keith comes back to team Voltron after having been gone for a year and a half training with the Blades... klangst slow burn reunion ensues... I have no better way to describe it erthgfbdsfegtr _forgive me I can't do summaries_.
> 
> I wrote this with the intention of exploring the team dynamic (specifically between Keith & Lance obv) after Keith returns and it just kind of naturally flowed from there! 
> 
> NOTE: My depressed ass started this awhile ago but couldn't get it done before the new season came out... _sigh_.  
>  BUT I'm sticking with my original plan for the ending regardless. Could not be any further from what actually happened... but hey, maybe that's nice? _sweats_
> 
> tldr; If u read this disaster fic ily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter contains mild injuries and some mention of blood

The first time Lance saw Keith, he’d been standing at the base of the bridge that connected the main platform to the simulator room at the Garrison. His teammates flanked him, chatting quietly amongst themselves as Lance kept quiet, gaze fixed on the closed and running simulator doors ahead of them. He watched the digital timer above out of the corner of his eye, trying in vain to calm his erratic breathing. His chest rose and fell in tandem with the loud thudding of his heart and the  _tick, ticking_  of the timer that was slowly nearing its end. Each breath brought him closer and closer to the moment he anxiously awaited, and each tick served as a loud, persistent reminder that this was really happening.

During their first few weeks at the Garrison and prior to any formal training, new recruits were extensively tested, assessed, and sorted into different flight classes based on skill level. This was the final flight simulation of his testing period, and Lance knew that it was also his final chance to prove that he was worth placing in fighter class. Although he knew that his skills needed a lot of work, he was determined to prove himself. He’d waited years for this… and now that the opportunity to be a fighter pilot was right in front of him, now that his team was next in line to be assessed, he couldn’t stop shaking.

Suddenly, the timer struck 0 and an alarm buzzed, signalling to the room of waiting cadets that the current group had completed their simulation. Total and individual scores quickly populated the display screens situated around the room, the last individual score causing a collective gasp to flow throughout. A heavy silence fell over the room, but was quickly replaced by bursts of quiet whispers among teammates, low voices hushed and tense:

“ _I’ve never seen a score that high!_ ”

“ _Keith Kogane… who is he? Have you heard of him?”_

 _“He’s definitely going to make fighter class._ ”

“ _No wonder I overheard Iverson talking about him last week…_ ”

The whispers hit him hard, but the scores currently on display hit him harder. The top score, achieved by someone named Keith Kogane, was almost twice as much as his personal best. His heart sank, weighing heavy in his chest like stone. Suddenly, the doors to the simulator opened, revealing the cadets that had just completed their simulation. The team sauntered out, most members chatting and joking quietly with each other as they crossed the bridge leading to the platform where Lance stood. They were all loose and giggly with the relief of having successfully completed their test, that is, all of them except for one. The only cadet that didn’t wear a smile exited the simulator last, gaze intense enough to quiet the buzzing room with a single glare. Lance watched intently as the boy walked past him, stone heart hammering wild in his chest.

He thought of him as his team was called to enter the simulator, and as he strapped in to begin his test. He thought of him again when his score was displayed, higher than his personal best, but still not good  _enough._  He continued to think about him, even when he’d long been placed in cargo class and had little to no interaction with those who were placed in fighter. He thought of  _him_ , the boy who had passed him that day on the simulator platform, gaze made of purple fire and a nametag reading “Keith Kogane” pinned to his chest. He turned Keith into an ideal, twisting him into the living and breathing embodiment of everything he felt like he wasn’t, and everything that he wanted to be. And he hated him for it.

Around a year later, right after Lance had made fighter class and his thoughts of Keith had finally began to ebb, they crossed paths for the second time. It was the night that Shiro returned, falling from space and crashing into the Earth like a blazing comet. When himself, Pidge, and Hunk went to investigate, Lance had spotted Keith’s dark mullet instantly. There he was, directly within his line of sight and yet ten steps ahead of him,  _again_. With the desperate need to not fall behind weighing heavy on his heart, Lance jumped into action and followed Keith’s footsteps straight into the lion’s den without a moments hesitation. From there, it had all happened in a blur of colour. First, Shiro spoke in urgent whispers of an alien species intent on taking over the galaxy; of a secret weapon called “Voltron” being the only thing that could stop them. Then, before Lance could gain his bearings, he was partof the legendary team that formed it, piloting a blue lion in the heart of space.

Overtime, as the pieces of Voltron began to lock into place, Lance started to view Keith as a rival instead of as an ideal. Hatred had turned into frustration, and this frustration lit a fire in his heart every time Keith was around, pumping heat through his veins and drawing insults from his throat. As their rivalry developed, he found himself constantly drawn to Keith, always watching over him out of the corner of his eye. He became quick to learn from Keith’s actions, and just as quick to call him out for all of his mistakes. As they continued to fight alongside each other, Lance slowly realized that he’d started to not only notice Keith’s shortcomings, but help him make up for them as well. He still kept one eye trained on Keith whenever they were together, but now, he wasn’t quite sure why. More and more he found himself compensating for what Keith lacked, and gradually, Keith became someone real to him. His ideal had turned into his rival, and his rival had turned into someone human; a human who was flesh and blood, just like him, and who made mistakes just like everybody else. He was no longer simply Keith Kogane, best fighter pilot of their generation, but Keith, red paladin of Voltron, boy with a quick temper and a questionable haircut. A boy who Lance thought might need them just as much as they’d learned to need him. And then just like that, he was gone.

After Keith suddenly left the team to join the Blades, Lance was surprised to feel as though his heart had been ripped out. With it, the fire Keith ignited within him doused, leaving nothing but an empty space and swirls of smoke. Again, he found himself in Keith’s wake, but this time, it left him feeling unbalanced and lost. Overtime, Keith slowly faded back into something intangible. He became late nights spent awake staring at the ceiling, and an empty space to fill at the dinner table. He became the ghost of someone Lance had never known he’d needed until they were gone, and someone he was surprised to realize that he missed.

And now, as Lance stood at the hanger’s entrance watching the others excitedly swarm Keith, he realized that he was no longer sure how to look at him. He didn’t know what to make of Keith, who had suddenly disappeared without warning over a year ago, now standing there before them like nothing had ever happened. After spending so much time fighting with the Blade, he looked different, and he felt different. The way he hugged his bag tight to his shoulder, and the way he curled in on himself every time the others leaned forward as if flinching away from their touch… this wasn’t the Keith Kogane that had left them last year. Suddenly, Keith looked up at him, eyes dark and gaze hesitant. When their eyes met, Lance was quickly shaken from his reprieve and lured back into reality by two small flames burning within familiar shades of purple. All at once, Lance realized with stunning clarity that he  _did_ know who he was looking at: it was Keith Kogane, the same Keith he’d always known, the same Keith who could freeze and burn an entire room with a single glance. He just didn’t know who was looking back at  _him_.

* * *

To put it mildly, Keith felt uncomfortable. Everything was exactly the way he’d left it: the castle, the paladins, his room. The way Hunk hugged with the entirety of his being, the way Pidge fiddled with her glasses when she was nervous or thinking hard. Allura still made time at the end of each day to gossip with the mice, and Shiro still spent most of his time strategizing and formulating their next moves as a team. Even Lance’s sweaters, which he always used to shed and forget in various places around the castle, could still be found strewn about the common room. It was Keith who had changed, and Keith who felt as though he no longer belonged.

After about an hour of teary hellos and catching up, Keith finally managed to escape the team’s prying eyes and steal a moment to himself. He retreated to the bathroom nearest his bedroom, dousing his face in cold water before bracing both hands against the edge of the sink. For a moment, he watched the water as it swirled down the drain, listening as it travelled steady down the pipe. He took a deep breath, grip reflexively tightening around the sinks edge, and looked up at himself in the mirror. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his reflection without flinching, and this time was no exception. His hair was longer than it had been when he left the castle, and messier. It’d been inexpertly trimmed in some places, but that hadn’t stopped loose strands from continuing to sweep over his face and cloud his vision. Lately, he’d gotten into the habit of wearing his hair tied back… something he’d never done while living in the castle. Training with the Blade had given him harsher features, most notable being his eyes. Permanent dark circles had long since settled beneath them, and his brow bone now cast shadows onto sunken lids, painting them dark and harsh. His body was covered in new scars the team had never seen, and he’d yet to face. The biggest difference, however, was the long galra mark he’d developed during his time away. The deep purple started on his right cheek and ran all the way down the right side of his chest, ending at his midriff. It looked like someone had taken a sword and sliced down the right side of his body, leaving a jagged gash to heal purple and uneven. To Keith, that’s what it felt like too.

\----------

“Keith?” He was brought back into his body by the hesitant voice of Lance ringing honey sweet against the cold, harsh tiles of the bathroom. “What are you…?” Keith blinked twice, coming back into himself. The more immersed in reality he became, the more intense the throbbing became in his right fist. He looked down, startled to see blood coating his hand, crimson running down the knuckles of his fist and dripping onto the white tiles of the floor.

“Lance, I…” He looked up to meet Lance’s eyes as he spoke, mirroring the other boy’s confusion. Panic sparked through his body as he struggled to grasp the situation, head turning light and fuzzy.

“Easy.” Suddenly, Lance’s voice was soft and firm in his ear, and Keith felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. “It’s alright.” Keith struggled to collect himself, breathing quickly turning erratic as he watched his blood continue to collect in a puddle on the floor. “Keith.” At the sound of Lance’s voice, his next inhale hitched and stuttered to a halt. “Listen to me.” With this, Lance squeezed his shoulder even tighter, simultaneously taking in a long, steady inhale. Then he exhaled, grip loosening. Keith watched intently, anchored to the calm storm raging in Lance’s eyes. “Match my breathing.” His voice was clear and steady, coaxing Keith to obey without much thought. They breathed together in silence for a few moments, never breaking eye contact. Keith’s breaths slowly levelled, and his head began to clear. As the panic ebbed, realization slowly began to take its place.

“I smashed the mirror.” He spoke softly after a few moments, shifting his eyes to the floor. He could feel his cheeks flush patchy and hot, shame creeping into his features and turning him sheepish and quiet.

“I know.” Lance put an arm around Keith’s shoulders, right hand holding him firm. His left hand reached forward to cup Keith’s fist in an attempt to contain some of the bleeding.

“Lance… I don’t want any of the others to-“ Keith started, surprised at how hoarse and dry his voice sounded. It bounced off the walls, low and rough and edged in panic.

“I know. I’m taking you to my room.” Lance cut in before Keith could finish. “I have a first aid kit.” Reluctantly, Keith relaxed his tense shoulders into Lance’s hold. He didn’t have the energy to fight with him, and he knew he didn’t have any substantial reason to refuse his help. As Lance began to lead Keith out of the room, he stole his first and only glance at the broken mirror above the sink. It was completely shattered; a small fist-sized circle was evident near the bottom right corner, cracks fanning from the initial hit like veins travelling under skin. Dozens of his own reflection stared back at him, their judgment digging under his skin and remaining with him long after Lance had coaxed him out of the room.

\----------

They sat in silence as Lance tended to Keith’s hand; Keith perched on the edge of Lance’s bed and Lance kneeling at his feet. Keith watched as Lance removed stray pieces of glass from his wound with a pair of tweezers, and as he sanitized each of his cuts, no matter how small, one by one. He was taken aback by how careful Lance was with him, every movement precise and gentle, as though he was fragile, breakable. His gaze kept wandering to Lance’s eyes, partially hidden under a curtain of delicate lashes, as he worked. Lance was the only person whose gaze always saw right through him, so he’d spent most of his time avoiding it. But now, sitting here like this, Lance’s eyes downcast and concentrating, he had a chance to really look at them. As Lance began to bandage his hand, he wondered if they’d always been so  _blue_. At first glance, the swirling shades were simply captivating. Their colour reminded Keith of home; of how, on a cloudless day, a pool of water on Earth resembled the vivid blue of the sky. But the longer Keith stared, the more he noticed that there was a strange depth lurking below the initial brightness. It carried him below the surface, his consciousness floating along a current to somewhere new and far, far away. 

“Are you alright?” Keith started, blinking rapidly. It wasn’t Lance’s voice that had caught him off guard, but the shifting of his gaze. Lance’s eyes had tilted upward, deep blue meeting him directly.

“Yeah.” His voice came out tight and quiet, like he was choked for air. He let out a deep, staggered breath, Lance never averting his eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance’s voice came out calm and cool, his expression revealing nothing to dissuade his casual exterior. But his eyes, his eyes were piercing. Keith remained silent, breathing shallow. He panicked as Lance’s gaze laid him out bare, stripping him to his bones. He couldn’t lie to him. 

So he didn’t.

“Keith…” Lance’s voice went quiet, almost pleading, as Keith stood up. He realized Lance had finished bandaging his hand when he looked down at his fingers, stretching them out slowly. He flinched, cut skin aching in protest at the sudden movement. “You’ll need to talk to Allura. Some of those cuts will need stitches… but I did what I could for now.” Keith wanted to thank him for tending to his hand. He wanted to be able to tell Lance what had happened during his time away, explain why it was currently eating away at him. But how could he open up to someone he’d as good as abandoned; asking anyone on the team to shoulder any part of his burden, after all he hadn’t done for them, was something he couldn’t bear. He wished with all his heart that he’d explained to them why he had to leave in the first place, and that he’d kept in touch while he was away. He wished that he’d spent nights talking with Pidge about her newest gadgets, joking with Hunk, and passing countless hours simply chatting with Shiro like they used to do. When he'd first spotted Lance in the hanger that morning, he'd wished he could understand why the tall, goofy boy he’d left a year and a half ago was now somehow lean and sturdy. Right now, as he gazed at Lance kneeling below him, he wanted to ask him how, with new features etched and hardened by war, he’d managed to keep his expression so soft. But he hadn’t.

And he didn’t.

He gave Lance a tight nod, avoiding his gaze, before turning on his heel and quickly exiting the room.

* * *

“Have you guys noticed anything strange about Keith lately?” Lance spoke into the silence, drawing both Hunk and Pidge’s attention. Occasionally, when the team had a little extra downtime, the three of them would meet in the common room after hours to play videogames well into the night. Shiro used to lecture them about it, but when they’d mentioned to him that it was a tradition they’d maintained since their time back on Earth, he’d given in with a defeated “as long as you don’t stay up  _too_  late.” He knew they wouldn’t listen to him, of course, but it was Shiro; he had to try.

Pidge stretched and yawned, letting her controller fall and rest in her lap. “You mean, beyond the usual?” She smirked, grin illuminated by the soft glow of the TV screen. Hunk stretched out as well, controller rolling onto the floor. He sunk into the couch with a dramatic sigh, letting both his arms drape over the back cushions.

“Pidge.” Hunk’s voice was disapproving, but as he spoke, a smile spread across his tired features.

“ _Hunk_.” She returned with mock emphasis.

“Guys, I’m serious.” Lance huffed, sending a pleading look in Hunk’s direction.

“I don’t know, buddy.” Hunk casually shrugged, sinking further into his position on the couch. “Define strange?”

“Are you seriously saying you guys haven’t noticed anything odd?” They both looked at him, sleepy and confused. Hunk’s expression was slightly concerned, whereas Pidge looked skeptical. Lance sighed in defeat, carding a hand through his hair.

“First off, he hasn’t eaten a meal with us once.” Lance started, leaning back. He spoke into his lap, focus trained on the controller he still held. His anxious hands busied themselves, fiddling with the buttons and controls as he spoke. “He hasn’t… spoken to any of us unless we’ve approached him first. And even then…” He trailed off, brows creasing at the thought.

“Keith’s never really talked much.” Pidge shrugged, crossing her legs so that they were folded under her.

“Yeah… but he hasn’t even talked to Shiro.” Lance looked up, gaze shifting from green to yellow paladin. Hunk’s expression creased further in concern, and Lance knew it wasn’t for Keith.

“He’s only been back for two weeks, Lance.” Hunk spoke softly, voice calm and even. “He probably doesn’t feel comfortable opening up yet.”

“I agree with Hunk.” Pidge added, perking up. “He’s always been broody.”

“This is more than just your regular ‘broody Keith behaviour’.” Lance crossed his arms, abandoning the controller at his side. His fingers resumed their fidgeting, this time tapping against his bicep. “It’s more than just not wanting to open up, he doesn’t seem to want to talk at  _all_.” At this, Pidge and Hunk remained silent. Although he chose to ignore it, Lance didn’t miss the look that passed between them as he continued. “He only eats his meals when we’re all busy training. And when we invite him to train with us, he  _always_ says that he’s too tired. But the second we finish, he suddenly wakes right up."

“When I walk into a room, he runs out. He won’t even look at me. He won’t look at  _any_  of us.” He continued, leaving little room for Hunk or Pidge to interject. “Yesterday, when I was on my way to my room, I saw him in the hallway. Instead of just  _passing_  me, like a  _normal_ person, he turned and practically ran down another corridor!”

“Maybe he changed his mind?” Hunk added quietly, hopeful. Lance scoffed in reply, shaking his head.

“He had his swimsuit on, Hunk. His  _swimsuit_. Do you know where he turned? Towards the  _control room_.”

“Maybe… he was hot?” Lance shot him a look, prompting Hunk to immediately back down. “Look man, I know it’s weird. It’s been bothering us too.” Hunk glanced at Pidge, who nodded in agreement.

“But Lance, Keith’s never been chatty. He’s never liked spending too much time with us.” Pidge continued, picking up where Hunk left off. “And he’s been gone for over a year. Maybe… he just got used to spending time alone.” Lance could tell by their tone that the two of them weren’t going to budge. He knew he was likely reading too much into the situation, and had debated with himself countless times over whether or not he should bring the subject up at all. However, no matter how much he reasoned with himself, and no matter how reasonable Pidge and Hunk sounded, he couldn’t control the small, uneasy feeling rolling in the pit of his stomach. Anytime he’d all but convinced himself that everything was fine, images of shattered glass flashed through his mind. And then, before he knew it, all he could see was Keith’s panicked expression, violet eyes wide and scared. It was the fear that always shook him; he’d never known Keith Kogane to be afraid of anything. He let the silence sit for a few moments, taking some time to collect his thoughts.

“Yeah, maybe you guys are right.” He finally conceded, letting out a long-held breath. “I guess I’m just tired… I’ll stop overthinking it.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around.” Hunk’s voice was soft and comforting. When Lance looked up, he was met by two reassuring smiles. However, Pidge’s quickly contorted into something slightly mischievous.

“I really would like to know where he got that purple mark from, though.” She mused, getting up to turn on the common room lights. Hunk stood up as well, turning off the TV and beginning to put away the gaming system’s controllers.

“So does Lance.” Hunk’s voice was nonchalant, conversational. When Lance shot him an incredulous look, Hunk let out a loud, booming laugh. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’ve been looking at him since he’s come back.” Pidge snickered, collecting the pillows and blankets they had used and placing them neatly on the couches.

“Wha- I- No!” Lance shot up, heat gathering in the tips of his ears. “I can’t help looking at it! It’s huge alright!” Pidge clicked her tongue, playful expression unflinching. When Hunk finished tidying the console area, he walked over and nudged Lance in the ribs.

“Kidding… we’re kidding.” He threw an arm over Lance’s shoulders, Lance whining in protest.

“Guys! I’m serious!” Lance struggled in vain, unable to shake Hunk’s iron grip. After a few moments, Hunk’s hold loosened.

“Seriously, buddy. It’ll be okay.” Lance’s muscles went slack, completely giving in to the comfort of his best friend.

“I know.” He spoke softly, smiling up at Hunk. And for a moment, when Hunk’s answering smile flashed comforting and sweet across his face, he actually believed it. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into klangst real fast & I'm not entirely sure how it happened...


	2. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Keith stopped in his tracks, quickly taking two hurried steps back and swinging sharply to his right. He pressed his back up against the wall that now shielded him, listening intently to the sound of Pidge and Lance's conversation as their voices echoed down the hallway adjacent to his. As they neared, voices coming closer and closer, he willed his heavy breathing to turn low, shallow, and quiet. They were so close he could hear their conversation; Lance's voice was bright and animated while Pidge's was muted and playful, the discussion revolving around something Hunk had mentioned during breakfast that morning. He listened as Pidge’s laugh rang like a bell down the hall at something Lance said, and smiled to himself. It was the way she laughed when a comment flew past her guard, her playfulness bubbling with laughter before her wit could come up with a retaliation. Pidge’s laughter trailed into small gasps, a low comment escaping her lips that Keith couldn’t quite make out. And then Lance was laughing, loud and careless, the light tones chiming down the hallway and causing Keith to forget how to breathe. Keith had always loved the way Lance laughed without reservation – how he threw his head back and clutched his stomach, and how he let his whole body relax into the moment. He always looked so happy and sincere, and over the years, Keith had learned to find comfort in the light tones and dips of the familiar sound. He forced his body back into reality, lungs burning for air. Now, as he shamelessly hid from the two cheerful paladins, he couldn’t manage to find any comfort in the sweet sound at all.

When he had first seen their shadows rounding the corner, Keith's body had reacted instinctively. Before he'd had time to fully process the situation, he was already in motion, and within seconds, he had effectively hidden himself behind a wall attached to a connecting hallway, heart erratic and muscles tense. And now, Pidge and Lance's voices having all but faded, Keith's mind finally had a chance to catch up to his body. As his thoughts began to pour in, he let his muscles go, back sliding down the face of the hallway wall until he was seated on the floor. He'd just finished training for the afternoon and had been walking back to his room with a towel slung over his shoulders, chest bare and hair tied in a loose ponytail right above his nape. He knew that the team had definitely caught on to the fact that he trained by himself by now, but that didn't mean he wanted Pidge and Lance to catch him like this, half in his gear and sweat collecting around his face.

Every afternoon at exactly 12, one of the paladins would show up at his room and tentatively knock at his door. When he opened it, he’d always find one of them dressed from head to toe in their training gear, expression kind and hesitant. They’d ask him if he wanted to join them all for training that day, always phrasing it as a request and leaving Keith with a choice. And every afternoon, Keith found himself frozen in place in his own doorway. His heart would start pounding, heat spreading up his neck and pooling in his cheeks; and his muscles would tighten, his body fighting the intense, growing urge to run. He’d end up giving a tight nod, and attempt to reassure them with a soft “I’ll think about it” or “Thanks for asking.” Each time, his soft intentions would turn to low, strained mumbles as they fell from his lips, leaving the paladin at his doorway dejected and concerned. Once they were gone, he’d stand behind his closed door, promising himself that he'd go this time but never being able to muster the ability when the time came. He knew it hurt them when he didn’t show up for training; he could see it on their faces every single day. And although he knew this, he also realized that his body likely hadn’t reacted the way it did to protect Pidge and Lance, but to protect himself. He didn't think he could bear seeing the looks on their faces if they saw him like this, right after he'd turned them down for the third consecutive week, new scar exposed and cutting down his side. His body had realized that far before his mind, and had propelled him into hiding as soon as he had sensed their presence. He rested his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling tiles of the corridor. He’d felt refreshed and awake after training this afternoon, but suddenly, he was exhausted. He closed his eyes, willing his thoughts to stop berating him. But nothing he tried was able to staunch their flow, and what poured in next, what always poured in next, was Lance. When the others invited him to training, it was always hard. His heart always ached, and his eyes always burned. But when it was Lance who asked, it was painful. There was something about the way that Lance looked at him, something behind his expression, that always had Keith seconds from crumbling on the spot. And just as he’d think he couldn’t last another second under his gaze, Lance would reach out, squeeze his shoulder once, and give him a small smile before turning down the hallway. He’d leave Keith standing there, trembling and alone, a small part of him wanting to chase after the blue paladin, but an even bigger one holding him in place.

\----------

Lance thought he was seeing things. One moment, he’d been strolling down the hallway towards his room, clad in his robe and freshly showered, like any other day after training. The next, he’d rounded a corner to see Keith lying with his back against the hallway wall, sound asleep. It was like his worrying had somehow manifested Keith for him, placing him directly in his path and right where he could find him.

He’d spent the entire morning thinking about Keith – it had been his turn to ask Keith to training that day, and quite frankly, he hadn’t looked too good. His eyes had opened wide at the sight of him, staring and staring but never seeming to find any purchase. Strangely, Lance found himself having to suppress the intense urge to reach out and hold him, to stabilize him. But he knew Keith would flinch at the sudden touch, and he didn’t want to give Keith another reason to avoid him. None of the other paladins seemed to find anything unusual about Keith’s behaviour, but for some reason, Lance couldn’t stand it. He’d always imagined Keith coming back to the team, how excited he’d be to finally have his rival back. But in all of his imaginings, Keith had been the same version of himself that had left over a year ago. And Lance had been the same boy Keith had left standing there to carry on as red paladin, alone. But now, neither of them were the same as they’d been back then. No matter how many times he’d gone over the scenario in his mind, nothing had prepared him for this.

He walked over to where Keith slept, slowly approaching him and kneeling down until their faces were level. Keith rested with his head against the wall, chin tilted to the side and mouth slightly agape. He could tell that Keith had been training before falling asleep here, like he always did after the team was finished for the day. He was half in his gear with a towel over his shoulder; small curls forming around his neck where stray hairs had began to dry. For the first time since he’d returned, with his face softened by sleep and small, gentle breaths escaping his lips, Keith actually looked peaceful. He sighed, smiling to himself. Seeing Keith like this, so comfortable and relaxed, put him at ease too. He sat for a few moments, just watching. Watching as soft breaths puffed from between his lips in steady intervals – watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. His eyes shifted naturally to the mark on Keith’s chest, exploring it from his cheek all the way to where it disappeared below the hem against his waistline. This was the first time he’d had the chance to see it up close, to see how the lines traced Keith’s skin. His cheeks coloured slowly and he averted his eyes back up to Keith’s face, following the mark with his eyes all the way to his cheek. He wondered where it came from, and he wondered if it had hurt. But mostly, he wondered if Keith would ever tell him, and if Keith would ever _want_ to tell him. Subconsciously, his hand reached forward, his fingers ghosting the underside of Keith’s jaw and his thumb meeting the mark on Keith’s cheek. His cheek was warm, and the mark was smooth. Lance pressed the pad of his thumb softly against his skin, and swiped smoothly down to where the purple cut his jaw. When Keith moved, Lance froze.

Keith let out a low, tired sigh as his body shifted slightly and his eyes fluttered open. As Keith opened his eyes, Lance realized what he was doing. He’d been trying so hard not to step out of line with Keith since he’d returned, to make sure he felt comfortable and to hopefully regain some of his trust. And as Keith looked over at him slowly, it hit him that he might have just sent himself back to square one. A million explanations ran through his mind, but were immediately quieted by a half-awake, sleepy Keith nuzzling his cheek further into his palm.

“Uh… Keith?” His voice came out a high-pitched whisper as all of the air left his lungs.

“Mmhmm,” Keith drawled slowly, lazily, and then smiled up at him. For a moment, Lance thought his heart might stop.

“What are you…?”

“Are you looking at this?” Keith completely ignored him, slurring slightly as he fought against the heavy weight of sleep still fogging his brain. Keith's eyes then fell to the mark on his chest. Lance desperately searched for the right words, but none came. “It’s from my mom.” Keith continued, breath tickling the side of Lance’s hand. To Lance, it felt like all time had stopped. “Awful, isn’t it?” Lance immediately snapped out of it, already speaking before the words had finished leaving Keith’s mouth.

“Of course not!” The earnestness in Lance’s voice and the loudness of his outburst snapped Keith awake, eyes going wide. Lance continued before Keith even had the chance to breath. “Keith, nothing about you could ever be awful!”

For a moment afterwards, Lance, with his hand still cradling Keith’s cheek, and Keith, still frozen in shock, they remained silent. They held each other’s gaze, both of them unmoving. And then, Keith broke. He quickly stood, effectively ending whatever moment had just unfurled between them. As he stood, he immediately swayed, his body still not fully awake. In a heartbeat Lance was standing too, and Keith could feel his shoulder meet the sturdy weight of Lance’s chest as he lost his balance completely. Again, Keith felt himself temporarily ease into Lance’s touch. And again, the moment between them lingered for just a second too long. As he pulled away, Keith cursed his inability to fight this; to fight the invisible weight he could feel constantly pulling him towards Lance.

“Your mom? Keith, I had no idea. Why didn’t you-" Lance broke the silence, and Keith withdrew back into himself.

“Just forget about it, alright? It isn’t important.” Keith spoke to the floor tiles. He wished more than anything that Lance would forget any of this had ever happened.

“ _Keith_ …“ Keith flinched. He was immediately brought back to the day he'd first arrived and smashed the bathroom mirror, to the day that Lance had bandaged his hand. For the second time, Lance’s voice was pleading as it spoke Keith’s name.

“It’s not important, Lance. Forget it.” And for the second time, Keith walked away. He left Lance standing in the hallway, confused, shocked, and with the warmth of their recent touch searing his left hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I hate me too..... *cries*


	3. Eyes Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! AHHHH (hope you enjoy it!)

Keith was dreaming of the sun.

He lay still under lightly swaying palm trees, savouring the feeling of the warm rays peaking between the leaves and kissing his skin. He could hear the soft sound of waves crashing against a shoreline in the distance, and he could feel the warmth of the air as the breeze swept gently over him, carrying traces of sea salt and the sun with it. With the sand below his back cushioning him perfectly, Keith felt completely at ease. He felt safe.

The next breeze carried in a scent that had Keith sitting up, had Keith looking up and into the sun. It smelled like coconut shampoo and vanilla soap, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down his spine. As he inhaled the sweet smell once again, he realized with a start that it smelled like Lance. And suddenly, as if summoned by the thought, Lance appeared before him. His body looked like it was glowing as he approached, the suns light outlining his silhouette in gold. Lance slowly knelt down in front of him and reached forward, cupping Keith’s cheek in his hand. Keith completely melted under the soft touch, Lance’s skin sending warm honey through his veins and causing his body to fall slack. As he inhaled again, the scent of Lance filling his lungs, he realized how much he missed him. He hadn’t ever let himself truly miss Lance before, and as he let the fullness of that feeling wash over him for the first time, he had to stifle back tears. He’d never realized how much he craved Lance’s touch because he’d never let himself indulge before, never let himself get close enough. But now that he had Lance here, soft palm cradling the side of his face like he was something fragile, the longing building in his chest was almost insatiable. And it scared him.

His fear clawed its way through his dream and the scene around him blurred. When his vision refocused, his gaze was now fixed on the mark running down his chest. And when he looked back up at Lance, he was looking at the mark too.

 _No_.

His blue eyes seemed to grate over his chest, taking all of it in; all of _him_ in.

 _Don’t look_. _Don’t look at it_.

Keith was struck with a deep sense of panic. The last person he wanted to see him like this was Lance.

_Don’t look at me._

The soft touch against his cheek suddenly ignited as he remembered what was beneath it, and as he struggled to gain his bearings the dream shattered completely. Now, he found himself in the hallway of the castle ship. He was cold, his muscles were stiff, and his head felt heavy. The light was no longer golden but harsh and white, and the only breeze came from the quiet humming of the nearby vents. As he regained his breath he was hit with the sweet smell of coconut, but unlike before, the scent didn’t calm him. Lance was really there, he realized, and he was really touching him. When he finally looked up, frantic, his eyes were met with a gaze of solid ice. The ocean blue of Lance’s eyes had frozen over in the harsh white light, and he was looking at Keith like he was scared of something. For a moment, Keith was unable to look away from him. But Lance’s gaze burned cold and sent ice through his veins, and all he could do to keep from freezing over was stand and tear their gaze apart. As he stood, Lance’s hand was torn from his cheek, and Keith was immediately struck by how empty it felt without his touch. A sense of loss immediately settled into his stomach, followed by an intense sense of longing. No matter how long he’d fought to suppress these feelings, his body still wanted Lance, craved him, as if Keith had no control over this at all. That thought scared him even more.

Before he’s fully awake, Keith’s already running.

* * *

Lance stared down at his open palm, furling and unfurling his fingers. His hand felt like it was on fire, as though Keith’s mark had somehow branded his skin with the memory of how it had felt to touch him. He couldn’t stop thinking of the way Keith had looked at him the other day, or the way he’d recoiled from his touch as though he’d burned him. He couldn’t help picturing Keith’s bare back as he had turned away from him, walking down the corridor and shutting him out _again_. The scenes kept playing over and over again in his mind on an endless loop, and as long as they continued to play, his palm continued to ache. Distantly, he heard someone calling his name.

“Lance? _Lance_?” He felt a pillow hit the side of his head, Hunk’s voice finally registering and drawing him back into reality. As usual, he’d spent the night playing video games with Hunk and Pidge well into the late hours of the castle’s cycle. “Are you even listening?”

“Oh… yeah. Sorry, what were you saying again?” Lance fidgeted under Hunk’s gaze, the worry in his eyes cutting clean through him. Pidge and Hunk were hovering by the common room doors, staring at him from his position on the couch with creased brows.

“We’ve finished cleaning up, and we’re heading back to our rooms now.” Pidge glanced up at Hunk, who met her worried expression with one of his own, before reverting her eyes back to Lance.

“Oh… right.” Lance’s cheeks burned, but he forced his face into a warm smile. “Night guys.” Pidge paused for a moment, looking unconvinced. After a few moments she sighed, relenting, before offering him a small smile and turning to head out of the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hunk said, pausing to take one final glance over his shoulder before following Pidge out the door.

“Yeah.” Lance turned and faced him, giving him the most reassuring smile he could muster. “Sorry man, I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

“Alright… if you say so.” Hunk smiled weakly back. He hesitated for a moment longer in the doorway, but ultimately, decided to leave Lance alone with his thoughts. The door closed with a near silent _click,_ and with that, they were gone. 

\----------

Lance had intended to go back to his room, he really did. But when he arrived at the sleeping corridor on his way back from the common room, he found that he’d rather just… keep going. Although his eyes burned from a lack of sleep, Lance was far too restless to settle down. And besides, he wasn’t entirely sure that his body, composed entirely of coiled muscle and wired nerves, would have let him sleep even if he’d wanted to. So he listened to it, letting it carry him down the hall and further into the castle. 

Lance was surprised when he eventually found himself in the training portion of the castle, not entirely sure how he had gotten there. As he slowly fell back into his body, he eased his pace, wandering down the halls at leisure. Soon, he began sliding his fingers down the smooth surfaces of the corridor. He took his time as he did, watching his fingers as they traced down the wall in long, swooping lines. When his hand brushed glass, Lance knew he’d stumbled upon the doors to the training room. What he couldn’t quite figure out was how, at this hour, he had also stumbled upon Keith. 

He stood, wide-eyed and slack jawed, as he stared at the view of Keith he’d somehow managed to capture below his fingertips. Legs frozen in place, he withdrew his hand and watched from behind the door as Keith lunged forward and took a bot out clean. Taking two steps back, Keith seamlessly transitioned the sword to his left hand and stabbed another bot to his side. With his sword still buried in the bot’s chest, he swung his sword and took out another. For a moment, Lance was awestruck. Keith’s movements were faster now, more confident. His body held a certain strength that Lance had never seen before; he could see it in the way he stood tall as he attacked, and etched into the muscles running down his back. But, the longer Lance watched, the more he realized that no matter how much Keith had changed, his fighting style was still the same. Although Keith’s swing was sharper and more accurate than it used to be, he could still sense its recklessness. Although the frame that charged forward had more skill, the boy that drove it still fell pray to the same habits. For a moment, the knot in Lance’s chest loosened. No matter how different he became, Keith would always be, well, Keith. The same Keith he’d always known, and –

_The same Keith who had left him._

The thought slammed into him, knocking him back into reality with a force. Unmoving, he watched quietly for a few moments as Keith finished off the rest of the bots, and as he stopped to wipe his brow. As he watched, he slowly steeled himself, digging his nails into his palm. Suddenly, Lance was storming through the training room doors before he even realized he was angry.

\----------

When Keith heard the loud _bang!_ of the training room doors swinging open, his first reaction was to whip his head in the direction of the sound. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see as he did, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Lance.

At first, Keith was completely dumbfounded as he beheld the tall boy now standing in front of him. He was usually the only one who stayed up this late into the castles cycle, and even if anyone did happen to be awake at this hour, the training room was a far distance away from the main living area. As Keith continued to take him in, he slowly registered the way that Lance had strode into the room, and the angry expression he currently wore. Quite frankly, he looked _pissed_.

On instinct, Keith’s first reaction was to be annoyed. Lance had suddenly barged into his training session, at God knows what hour, and somehow had the audacity to be mad at _him_ about it? He almost opened his mouth to scold him, but then the full reality of the situation hit him. With a pang, he remembered where he was, and why he was there. Keith slowly retreated back into himself and said nothing, the fire having died in his throat.

“There it is!” Lance’s voice echoed loud throughout the silent room as he spoke, the outburst causing Keith to flinch. “Why do you keep doing that?” Keith blinked in surprise, once, twice, before composing himself enough to answer.

“Doing what…?” His voice was quiet in comparison, the confusion in his tone evident. Lance huffed in exasperation, as if Keith should already know.

“ _That!_ ” He sighed again as he spoke. “Just… looking at me like that.” When Keith continued to stare on in shock, Lance groaned in frustration. “You look at me like, like you’re _hiding_ Keith!”

At that, Keith felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Helplessly, he continued to stare on, mouth agape and at a complete loss for words. He hadn’t been expecting Lance to barge into the room so late at night out of nowhere, and he definitely hadn’t been expecting him to be angry – especially not _this_ angry. Before he could even consider getting a word in edge wise, Lance continued.

“Trying to hide from us!” Lance coiled his fingers into tight fists at his sides. For the first time, Keith noticed how badly Lance was shaking. “Trying to hide from _me._ ”

“ _Lan_ -“

“Why?” Lance’s voice was suddenly quiet, coming out just above a whisper. “Why do you keep avoiding us? What did we do?” As Lance met his eyes, Keith swore his heart shattered.

“We used to be able to talk… and now you don’t tell me anything.” Lance’s voice broke as the words continued to spill messy from his lips. Slowly, he took a deep breath in. “I know that we used to fight a lot… but I thought… I thought that we still trusted each other.” Now that he’d started, Lance couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. He could feel himself slowly coming undone, his entire body shaking with hurt and anger and confusion and a million other emotions he didn’t have the names for. “You came back without a word, and I was happy to see you. But you’re acting like you don’t trust us anymore. Like you don’t trust me at all.” Lance was silent for a moment, staring at the ground.

“Lance, I-“ Instinctively, Keith reached forward to try and touch him, to try and comfort him.

“Don’t touch me, Keith!” Suddenly, Lance seemed to come back into himself. He swatted at Keith’s hand, angry tears beginning to burn at the sides of his eyes. “You came back out of the blue and won’t tell us why, but worst of all, you left the same way! You just _left_ , Keith. You didn’t tell us why you were going or how long you’d be gone for. You barely talked to us for almost two whole years.” He paused for a moment, gathering himself. “Why did you leave? Why did you even come back?”

“I didn’t want to leave!” It felt like Lance’s words had slapped him across the face. Keith’s head spun as he spoke, all of his emotions seeming to rush to the surface at once. “Lance, you have no idea why I did what I did. The things I had to do to keep you all safe, the things I _always_ do to protect you.” His voice was raw and defensive, and his words were sharp. They splintered up his throat and cut along his tongue as he spit them.

“You didn’t have to!” Lance’s reaction was instant and strong, making the tears now streaking down his face look almost frightening. “You’re right, I have no idea! Because you never talk to me!”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Keith stiffened, turning his head to the side.

“How do you know?” At that, Keith looked back up. “How could you possibly know that?” Lance’s voice was accusing and cold, but his eyes held nothing but hurt. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.” Stunned, Keith didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, not when Lance looked at him like that, and not when he knew that he was right.

“Why won’t you let me in?” Lance staggered forward, suddenly shoving at Keith with an open palm. “Why are these walls so high?” Lance pushed him again, this time, with more force.

“Lance-“

“Why.” Lance squared his shoulders and, using both hands, shoved at Keith again. Keith stumbled, taking a few steps back. “Won’t you.” This time, Lance lifted his palm like he was going to slap him.

“Lance!” Keith caught his wrist before it could strike his cheek, holding him firm.

“Let me _in_.” Lance swung with his other arm, but Keith caught that one as well. “I want to understand!” Keith tightened his grip as Lance struggled in his grasp; tears now free flowing down his cheeks. Lance gasped and hiccupped and writhed until Keith felt himself lose his footing, and within moments, they were tumbling to the ground.

Keith landed flat on his back, absorbing the impact of them both as Lance landed on top of him. However, the pain felt distant when he looked up at Lance, with his head bowed over Keith’s chest, shaking and crying on top of him. Lance had landed with his legs on either side of Keith, straddling him at the waist. His hands lay open and empty on Keith’s chest, the tears they failed to catch soaking into Keith’s t-shirt. Seeing him like this made it hard for Keith to breathe.

“I-“ Keith opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he noticed a jagged, white scar lining Lance’s hip. In the fall, his t-shirt had ridden up his chest; revealing just enough skin for Keith to get a good, long look at it. Instinctively, he reached his hand forward and grazed the mark with his fingertips. To leave a mark like this, the wound must have been deep. It must have been excruciating.

“What are you doing?” Lance said weakly, unmoving. His tears had slowed, and his voice sounded hoarse and raw. But Keith could barely hear him.

Seeing a new scar on Lance and not knowing where it came from terrified him. He desperately wanted to know who had hurt him, and how. He wanted Lance to tell him who and what had caused him pain, and he wanted to take that pain away. All this time, he’d imagined Team Voltron staying the exact same as how he’d left them, but that wasn’t true at all. They had fought battles and wars and had cried and gotten hurt just like he had – he had new scars of his own, and so did they. The realization that he had no right to ask Lance about his scar hurt him more than he ever anticipated, but the realization that he could do nothing about it hurt him even more. All at once, he understood why Lance was so upset with him. He felt his anger crack and dissipate, and before he even realized he was moving, he was scrambling upright. When Lance looked up at him, the two of them eye-to-eye, Keith grabbed his teary face, drew it forward, and kissed him.

“Keith!” Lance drew back in surprise, eyes wide, only for Keith to pull him back in. “What are you- _mmmff!_ ”

Keith knew that this was sudden, and a little bit crazy, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d suddenly become overwhelmed with a desperate need to protect Lance that he couldn’t quite describe, and the intensity of that feeling left him unable to hold back. He wanted to know that he was safe, and the best way to know that for sure was to _feel_ him. He was never good with words, but he hoped that Lance would somehow understand the overflow of emotion he was desperately trying to convey in the only way that he knew how.

Lance struggled at first, but his efforts were all lackluster. His mind was screaming at him, reminding him that he was angry and upset and that this situation made absolutely no sense. But every time Keith drew him back in, and every time he felt Keith’s lips against his, the voice in his head completely quieted. Keith was kissing him so intensely that he could hardly believe how gentle his hands were as they held his cheeks. And Keith’s hands… Lance could feel them shaking. Tears began rolling down his face again, but this time, he didn’t quite know why. When he felt Keith brush them away with his thumbs, touch so light and gentle it sent a shiver down his spine, he completely melted into him.

Now Keith was kissing him, _really_ kissing him, craning his neck upwards and dipping into his mouth, because Lance was letting him. And he was kissing him back. Keith had been gone for so long without a word, and there was so much that had been built between them that had never been spoken aloud, and Lance could feel it as the weight of each crashed down on them both. How much they’d missed each other, and how much pain they’d endured alone. Every word that had ever been left unsaid between them, and every worry they’d ever had for one another. Slowly and silently, something had developed between them and Lance hadn’t realized what it meant until all of his hurt and anger had been quieted with something as simple as the feeling of Keith’s lips against his. Unable to process the rush of emotions that had suddenly devoured them both, Lance swayed in Keith’s lap.

“Lance!” Keith caught him as Lance’s body gave, slumping forward. Lance’s breath drew heavy from his chest, and with his head dipped down, it brushed hot against Keith in small, shaky bursts. “Lance.” Keith meant for his tone to sound comforting, but instead his voice came out a quiet plea. In response, Lance grabbed onto Keith’s wrist for support. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Keith slowly eased him back up, hands immediately reaching up to cup Lance’s face so he could study him. Lance’s lips were dark and swollen, his face was flushed pink, and his cheeks were still wet and lined with all the tears he’d shed. Underneath the swollen red of his eyes, the deep blue of his irises were practically swimming, and there was so much pain in them that Keith cracked. “I’m sorry, Lance.” His voice broke and hitched in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

Lance slowly drew Keith’s hands away from his face, letting them fall between them. He didn’t have the words, or the energy left to speak them, but he knew what he wanted to do. All he’d ever wanted to do. Silently, he reached his arms forward and pulled Keith into his chest, as though his frail arms could somehow protect him.

And they could. Keith let himself get drawn in, and let himself lean into Lance’s chest. Lance was warm and his skin was soft and he smelled so much like home that Keith couldn’t help but cry. In the comfort of Lance’s arms, he finally let himself feel what he’d been hiding from for so long, and it felt okay. It didn’t feel wrong. He wrapped his arms around Lance’s middle, hugging him close, and let himself feel safe for the first time in years.

The next morning, Allura walked into the training room only to find them fast asleep on the floor, tangled in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this entire fic has kind of taken on a life of its own. I'm not really sure how to describe it anymore. One thing's for sure though, I have never written this much angst in my entire life........ 
> 
> This was supposed to be the final chapter, but I'm likely going to conclude with a 4th to wrap things up a little neater (and a little softer ohoo)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is curious, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://sleapea.tumblr.com/) (main) and [here](https://beautifulspacegays.tumblr.com/) (vld)


End file.
